Oh! Thou whose tender mercy hears Contrition's humble sigh; Whose hand indulgent wipes the tears From sorrow's weeping eye. See, low before Thy throne of grace, A wretched wand'rer mourn, Hast Thou not bid me seek Thy face? Hast Thou not said return? And shall my guilty fears prevail To drive me from Thy feet? Oh! let not this great refuge fail, This only safe retreat.